Upon my soul

It’s been a bit like treading water at the house. With Stephen away I’ve been visiting three or four times a day to let Bella and Harry have a run around and to become used to the idea of being there as well as to open up the shutters to make the most of the sunshine in keeping the house aired. Other than that, I’ve had my teaching and jaunts to the factory to log on to its precarious wi-fi. The silver lining to the cloud of his absence is that with more space at the dining table I’ve been shunted up a place, which means I can see the T.V without straining my neck.

Marco the builder and his helpmate (we must find out what his name is, but after all this time it would be embarrassing to have to ask) worked all week on the office. With the concrete dry they were able to put down the leveller then lay the floor tiles before cutting strips from the tiles to make a skirting board. They also took time out to make good the plaster on the office walls and attach the kitchen skirting board – again made from cutting up excess tiles used for the bathroom walls. Seems like we’re running on a theme here.

Meanwhile at the factory, things took an odd turn at the end of the week, not least with me being plunged into darkness. Thursday morning there were some strange people whom I’d not seen before in deep conversation with Luca. A little while later I was told by one of the office staff that I needed to turn off my computer because there was a problem with the system. I did wonder why this affected me as my MacBook is completely independent, but every an obliging sort I did as asked. After a while, being curious (some may call it nosy) I ambled nonchalantly from the desk in the no man’s land where Stephen works to the factory floor upstairs on the pretext of getting a hot chocolate from the vending machine. All the machines were silent and the workers were being addressed by two of strangers. It was then that Remo walked over to the wall and switched off all the power – when my chocolate was only half full. Lacking the vocabulary to shout, “Oy, turn that back on, mate!” I took my demitasse of chocolate back downstairs to sit in semi-darkness in front of a blank screen wondering what to do and if anyone actually remembered I was there.

After twiddling my thumbs for a few minutes, I thought I might as well go to the house, check on the floor, let Bella and Harry have a run around and phone Stephen to see if he had any knowledge of what was going on as it looked to me like Luca had managed to run yet another business into bankruptcy. Stephen knew nothing, but advised me to go and rescue our Ray Caesar print (the only thing of real monetary value we have in our lives). He’d been keeping it behind his desk where it was safe from workmen’s tools, but as we didn’t want it included in any lock down of the factory I shot up the hill in second gear, dashed back into the factory and wrestled the painting into the car only for Stephen to phone back saying that it was all due to a new generator being installed. Yeah, right.

Okay, that may be the case, but when I went this morning to do my work the power was on but only a skeleton staff manned the machines. Downstairs the office workers were sitting glumly waiting for the Internet to kick in so they could do some work. Mind you, the office isn’t the jolliest of places at the best of times – nothing to do with people as they are all lovely, but working with Luca must be like having a dementor* as a boss. By the time I had unpacked my paraphernalia, though, I was able to log onto the WWW so I went, post-haste, to get myself a coffee just in case Remo’s fingers were itching towards a switch

Not that that was the worst that befell me this morning as, before arriving at the factory, I did my routine check of the house and let Bella and Harry have a run. Too late I spotted Harry, bottom up, ferreting under the fence just before he disappeared and bounced away up the hill. The overnight rain had made (a very small) section of the banking fall away, which he had spotted and exploited. If you have never tried to chase a dog across a recently ploughed field after several hours of continuous rain, take it from me it isn’t easy. Fortunately, he came bounding back within minutes and I managed to secure his lead to prevent further frolicking – but not before my shoes became caked in clods of earth. It was as if I’d swopped feet with the Green Man, but at least that’s better than being a joy-sucking mercenary.

* Check here for any Harry Potter virgins who are unaware what a dementor is.